


Stranger in a hat

by ordika



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Porn With Plot, Wall Sex, lovely!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordika/pseuds/ordika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Graham Norton Show, you decide to get a drink. Alone. Then someone shows up, wearing terrible clothes and a preposterous knitted hat. Suddenly, your night looks a lot more promising...</p><p>Smut at the end :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You were drinking in a pub. It had been one hell of a day.  
You never thought that getting the chance to appear in the Graham Norton show would backfire like that. It was a nightmare. You still felt embarrassed when you thought about the accident in the gym, but what Mark Wahlberg put you through was even worse.  
You knew that you shouldn't be drinking, but you just needed it. Even you deserved it every once in a while.  
The pub was empty, save for a few fat men in their late forties so obsessed with their beers they didn't even notice you. To be honest, you had very little interest for anything other than your own mojito.  
Such a lame drink to be had, but you had already downed a vodka martini and you wanted something lighter.  
"I thought I'd find you here," said a strong, manly voice from behind you.  
You didn't know who it belonged to, but somehow it was familiar. And soothing. And oh so hot.  
That would explain why you didn't know him. Every guy you knew was a pussy. Or gay, but really sexy, but those were your friends and you could recognize their voice anytime.  
So who was it?  
You tried to turn around but the movement only made your head spin - a lot more than necessary. You reached for the bar, but missed. You were falling off the stool and right towards the floor.  
But the floor never came. Your fall was interrupted midair by a pair of strong, muscular arms. They wrapped around you and held you close to a hard, broad chest that was heaving a bit faster than usual. You supposed all of these wonderful body parts belonged to the man who'd just talked to you, but you were staring up at the ceiling and still couldn't see him.  
"Here, let me help," he muttered in that firm voice of his, thick with some sort of an accent that you could surely recognize if you weren't that drunk.  
How drunk were you exactly?  
The man put you back on your barstool, and your first instinct was to reach for your glass - it was almost full. The problem wasn't with you, then. It was the weird - or perhaps mixed? - accent. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the man settling down next to you. He was wearing jeans, a loose white shirt that wasn't totally buttoned up, a zip-up sports jacket, and a knitted hat.  
Well, you couldn't blame him. London fashion was bloody terrible, and if you were him, you'd probably dress like that to avoid being seen. Spotted. Whatever.  
You stared into those green-blue eyes for a really long time. You just couldn't get enough of him. He was too perfect. Your open stare must have made him feel uncomfortable, because after a while he broke eye contact and coughed. Nervously. Was it possible?  
"So I see you don't like chairs," commented Michael Fassbender so casually as if you'd known each other for years. Or at least more than a few hours. Or at all.  
"I've nothing against them. They simply can't stand me."  
Yep. That's your attempt at being funny. It's a lot better when you're drunk and even that was poor.  
But he actually laughed.  
Gosh, that laugh!  
"Sorry for Mark's behavior. I'm guessing he may have come here before you."  
You shrugged.  
"None of your fault, really," you muttered as you drank a bit of your mojito. "Care for a drink?"  
"That's supposed to be my line," he said, all charms and smiles. What was that song? You look so Seattle but you feel so LA? Yep, that was it. That was him.  
All cold perfection, like he's carved out of granite, by none other than Michelangelo himself by the order of god, then he says two words and his warmth is shown, even if his features barely join his words. His eyes are very telling, though.  
Well, he is an actor.  
He ordered a scotch, and sought your eyes when it was placed in front of him. He made sure you were looking at him as he took a sip of his drink. His gaze was intense, but totally expressionless. You felt like he was testing you, asking if you were up for the challenge  
When he put his glass down, he licked along his lips. That action turned you on more than you thought possible. You felt yourself getting wet. You had to cross your legs.  
He smiled.  
"So where's your boyfriend?" he asked, totally out of the blue and straight to the point.  
"Sadly, I don't have one," you said before you could stop yourself. Only after did you realize what sort of an invitation that must have sounded like.  
Bloody hell.  
"Why sadly?" he asked, not wasting any time.  
"Well, they usually pay for my drinks," you said with a wink, though your voice was shaky.  
He flashed his disarming smile again, and you knew you were going to have a good night.

The two of you slowly drank the rest of your drinks, flirting all the while. You didn't find out much about him, only that he liked drinks, and that he didn't normally dress like that.  
But you were like an open book. You told him everything he wanted to know, perhaps even more, but you didn't care. He was still there, still listening, and after 20 minutes of shameless flirting you finally worked up enough nerve to ask the one thing you truly wanted to know.  
"So why did you come here, Michael?"  
He shifted his gaze, but his yours was focused solely on him. He looked hesitant.  
"To get a drink," he said.  
You smiled and shook your head.  
"You said, "I thought I'd find you here". Why were you looking for me?"  
He finally looked back at you.  
"I felt ashamed for what Mark did to you. I wanted to apologize."  
"I don't want your pity."  
"Who said pity?"  
"What, then?"  
You had to. It was hanging in the air. You felt really attracted to him, and his boyish behavior anly made you want him that much more.  
He slipped a bit of money under his glass, enough for both your drinks.  
"Come on. Let's get you home."  
His voice was low and deep, and you had no idea what to think. If he wanted the night to end just like that, he could've said so. You felt heat rise up to your cheeks. He'd stood up, and his open palm was waiting for your hand to take it. You got off your stool as well, and picked up your bag. You turned to leave.  
"I can manage."  
You stormed out of the pub. The cold night air hit you like a slap in the face, and you didn't feel drunk anymore. If that was what he wanted, fine. His loss.  
You were about to start walking to your car when someone grabbed your hand and soun you around. You only had a moment to see Michael in front of you, then his lips crashed against yours.  
His kiss was a question, askong is you wanted him. One of his hands held your head, the other still entangled in your own that the'd grabbed.You kissed him back passionately, devouring his soft, thin lips, snaking an arm around his neck.  
It was perfect.  
After a short while, both of you were out of breath.  
"Can I take you home now?" he asked.  
Not trusting your mouth to do anything other than kissing him, you fished for your keys on your bad while leading him to your car by the hand. When they were finally in your hand and you at the car, he pushed you up against it and again captured your lips.  
Hot damn, the man could kiss!  
He let you go, took the keys and got in the car. Apparently, he was driving.  
" You don't even know where I live."  
That confident smirk took over his face.  
"I said I was taking you home. Not yours, just home."  
"Ooh, so you trust me not to show up again?" you teased him, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. That was definitely the remnants of the vodka martini, and not you.  
He laughed a little, more like a loud smile.  
"Who said I'd mind?"


	2. Chapter 2

Gravity decided to grip your jaw a bit stronger than the other parts of your body and your mouh was left open for quite a few seconds. You tried to fight it, but the universe had a different idea.  
Or, you should say, Michael Fassbender did.   
When he moved his hand up to your chin to close your mouth, all the while caressing your lower lip and every bit of skin he could reach, it just responded. It took all of your willpower not to let it fall open again.  
So you couldn' speak.  
Neither did he.  
The silence was unusual, but not uncomfortable or weird. You both needed to think things over, cause once you got out, there'd be no more thinking for the rest of the night. His stern look promised that.  
After, like a 5-minute drive, he parked your car in front of an expensive-looking apartment building. He got out first, the opened your door and helped you out.  
Such a gentleman.  
"Do you actually live here or are..."  
The rest of your sentence disappeared into his waiting mouth as he kissed you again. It was gentle this time: he took his time caressing your lips with his, before sliding his tongue into your mouth.  
It was the best kiss you'd ever had, even with him.  
You pushed closer to him, once more reminded of the fact that you were terribly turned on.  
Oh, wow. How could you not notice that before?  
His hardness pressed into the lowest parts of your stomach, just above your groin (because of the notable height difference). And bloody hell, what a hardness it was!  
You couldn't wait to have him inside you.  
The two of you separated and entered the building, panting heavily. In the lobby, he pushed you to the elevator doors, and when they opened a few moments later, he had you pinned against the mirror on the wall of the lift. He did all this while kissing you like a madman.  
One of his hands busied iself with your head and jaw - holding it in just the right angle he needed to continue his assault on your mouth. The other, however...  
It went on a journey hat took it lower and lower on your body. First, your neck. His fingers closed around it for a short time, not choking, just lingering on your flesh. Owning it in a most straightforward way. Then came your shoulder. This, however, proved to be a bit more difficult, because your arms were in constant motion as well. You couldn't get enough of his muscular back. Even through the jacket and the shirt, it was marvelous.   
The next stop was your breasts. For this, he removed his hand from your jaw to equally pleasure you. His mouth parted from yours, and he rested his temple against you. Those icy green-blue eyes burned into yours with a passion so cold, you actually started to fear him.   
Surprise, surprise: that seemed to work for you. His gaze held yours for an entirety of two seconds, more like two lifetimes, while he kneaded your breasts.  
Then he attacked again: his left hand snapped back into place, this time on the nape of your neck. He grinded his hardness into you, right hand cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him.  
His size still surprised you. Your antipication grew.   
You locked your hands behind his neck, and he let you take over the kiss: his focus was now elsewhere.  
His hands were massaging your thighs, the he lifted you up like you were a fragile porcelain doll, inviting you to wrap your legs around his waist, which you did.  
The man had a weird diversity about him: he was every bit the gentleman you'd wanted - and imagined - him to be, and yet, at the same time, there was a sort of feral need and agility in him you've never witnessed before. Either would have been enough for you to want to fuck him on the spot, but the two together drove you mad with lust.  
And, perhaps even worse, need.  
You needed this man.  
Perhaps it was only the fact that this man was a famous actor, but you couldn't recall anyone that had ever made you feel that way before. Or after, for that record.  
But of course, you didn't have much time to consider his gentleness, because he resumed his grinding just as suddenly as he'd lifted you up.  
You gasped, which turned into a shared moan - you, for the excquisite pleasure his clothed body was giving you, him, for the effect he had on you.  
And vice versa, but you didn't want to believe that.  
"You like it, don't you?" he inquired, thrusting his hips forward. "I bet you always do this. Play hard to get, then make your partners beg for it." His words were so sexy, you had to bite your lips to keep from moaning - continuously. "You like having them at your mercy, don't you?"  
Okay. Wait. You did.  
How on earth did he know that?  
He leaned closer to you, nuzzled his nose into your neck, and licked your ear. A shiver ran through your body.  
"You're not going to do that tonight, are you?"  
His movements stopped, and he was so close to you that you couldn't not look in his eyes even if you'd wanted to. His commanding voice and intense gaze were all so bloody hot, you weren't sure you could speak.  
You had to try, however.  
"N-no..."  
Your reward was a deep kiss. You threw everything away for this man, letting him control you and this whole situation he got you into, and you didn't regret it for a second.   
The elevator dinged. You arrived at his floor. The doors opened. He let one of your legs go,   
and you slowly untangled it from around his waist. He seemed so collected, like any of what you'd done hadn't affected him at all. You, on the other hand, looked like you'd run a marathon, and your hair must have looked worse than in the morning.  
It was utterly visible that he was deciding what to do with you. Will he play it rough, or take it slow? Torture you or pay your needs and desires no mind at all?  
You couldn't wait to find out, but you didn't want to disturb his thoughts. You already had what you wanted - that is, him. What came next would get to be his choice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, I've finally finished :)   
> so this chapter is pure smut. practically the point of it all.

He scooped you up into his arms, bridal style. You shrieked, and tightened your grip, placing a hand on his unearthly back and anoother on his neck. This was totally unexpected.  
The fire in his eyes subsided the tiniest bit, and for a moment you thought you could see a glimmer of caring in those green orbs.  
You froze. He was too good to be real. Right then, you were more attracted to the man than to his god-like body wrapped in those ridiculous clothes.  
The atmosphere became a bit too tense as the two of you stared intensely into each other's eyes.  
"I may not have told you before, but I really love your hat." He laughed at that. You took his face in your hands and started caressing his ears, his temple and his hat-wrapped hat. "You should wear it more often."  
A weird spark appeared in his eyes, and you immediately snapped back into your haze of lust. He walked you out of the lift.  
"Who says I don't?"  
You couldn't help. You threw your head back and laughed. He raised his eyebrows.  
"What's so funny?"  
Practically, everyhing was. You were tipsy.  
"Well, here I am... with you, Michael... Fassbender, and you're... we're... flirting... about your hideous... knitted hat!"  
He giggled. His chest heaved next to you. It was a strange, yet wonderful feeling.You looked at him, and suddenly his strong, broad chest and the fine cu of hi eyes were all you could think about.  
Fuck the hat, this man was a god.  
You kissed his open mouth, sliding your tongue past his lips. He welcomed it, and kissed you back with a passion so uniquely his, you'd never be able to forget it.  
He stopped in front of a door which you assumed was his.  
"I would love nothing more than to let us in, but no way in hell am I putting you down right now." And with that, he started kissing down your jawline. He licked your neck. You moaned.  
"Well, we can't stay here..."  
Your voice broke when he reached that spot where your jaw meets your neck, just below your ear, and you melted into his touch, filling his embrace, feeling him on every corner of your body.  
"Back pocket..." he whispered seductively into your ear, like it was something incredibly sexy.   
When your lust-filled brain finally understood what he meant, you realised his one was spot on.  
So your hand began its descent. You were still enjoying his mouth on your neck and you were happy you could return some of the favor. You caressed his bakc and gripped at the layers of clothing that made a lot less enjoyable, so you slipped a hand under his jacket and shirt.  
His skin was amazing, and his body was on fire. You made a decision not to move said hand unless it's really necessary.  
The other one reached its destination: his firm butt. It was really distracting. You loved it. You had to get him out of those jeans. You had to...  
Ah, the keys.  
You pulled them out of his pocket and brought them up to his face, still buried in your neck, keeping you moaning and gasping.  
"Look what I've found."  
He lifted his head and looked into your eyes. You thought he'd he'd make one of those sloppy comments of his, but instead, he only said: "Hurry."  
You loved the way his voice sounded: husky and urgent. You took the keys into your other hand and after a bit of fumbling the door was open, the keys in your hand, and Michael's lips plastered onto yours.  
With two steps, you were in the apt. He shut the door like a madman, then turned around and let your legs drop to the floor, supporting you with his arms around your waist.  
He pushed you up to the door, and used his body to pin you to it. You could feel his warmth against you. You dropped the keys.  
His erection pressed against you.  
You decided that you were wearing too many clothes.  
You tried to take off your jacket and shoes at the same time. You started your awkward movements, somewhere between shaking and wiggling. Michael gripped your arms and forced you to stop. You whined.   
"Michael...," you breathed, but he shushed you.  
"Let me."  
Just like that, your jacket was gone, lying in a heap on the ground. You stepped out of your shoes and kicked them away. You began to peel off his jacket, pulling him back to you in the process. Your lips collided, and you were one layer closer to him.  
His hand slid down your sides and disappeared under your jacket. He slowly pushed it up, massaging and caressing your skin all the while. You put your hands up and slowly your T-shirt joined the other clothes on the floor.  
He went to work on your bra, unstrapping it with steady fingers. You stopped him, turning as red as humanly possible.  
"I'd rather keep them on," you said breathlessly, avoiding his eyes. "Please."  
You wanted to give this man everything, but you were terrubly shy, and didn't like your breasts. You were also lacking sexual experience, which made you all the more self-conscious.  
His inquisitive gaze flickered all over your body, then came to rest on your face. You felt worse than ever before. He was going to hget angry. Wasn't he? You felt the need to explain.  
"I'm sorry. I-I just..."  
He stopped you with a hand on your mouth.  
"No need." He fastened the clasp of your bra. "I won't ask you to do something you're not comfortable with. I'm surprised you thought otherwise."  
You were overwhelmed. This man was hot, good-looking and a total gentleman!  
You kissed him again, forgetting all abou his question. You rid him of his shirt as fast as you could. You two had teased each other enough.  
His buttons were a murder. They just didn't want to be undone. Your hands were shaking, to be sure, but it wasn't entirely your fault.  
He had enough, and put your hands against the wall.  
"Don't you dare move," he whispered against your mouth. He took a step back with that seductive gaze of his burning into yours.  
And he ripped his shirt open.   
You gasped. Your subconscious was expecting something like this, but it took you totally unawares. He saw the effect he had on you, and kissed you again.  
Your hands immediately flew to his muscular stomach and chest, and you pushed his shirt to the floor. You went craty. His skin was amazing.  
He picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist - again. He walked you to the living room. You found yourself pushed up against another wall, and your jeans seemed to undo themselves.The sam fate befell his own trousers. While you wiggled out of your remaining clothes, you didn't for a second break the kiss.   
Your underwear remained, up to this point, intact and untouched.  
Your hands busied themselves with his trousers, and you pushed it down beloew his waist.  
"Do you mind if we stay here?" he asked, totally out of breath.  
"Do you?" You tried to sound as seductive as you could, and judging by the totally full-blown and hazy gaze he was staring at you, you managed quite well.  
His answer was a passionate kiss, and you snaked your hand down his chest and stomach, ino his boxers to wrap around his erection. You caressed it until you coaxed a hiss out of him.  
Then he ripped your panties off.  
"I'm keeping the shreds," he whispered in your ear, like he was telling you to order pizza.There was something unbelievably sexy and arousing in his pretence indifference while holding your soaked handies in his hands.  
"I'll be the judge of that," you answered, pushing down his boxer briefs. He resumed the kiss, but instead of fucking you outright, he cupped your sex and began to circle your clit.  
You moaned and writhed, fistiing your hand in his hair and clawing at his back, pulling him ever closer. He was kissing your mouth, your neck, your ear, practically everything he could reach, holding your head.  
All this quickly led to an explosive climax, that left you gasping for air, your chest falling heavily and rapidly against him. He was amazing.  
He trailed his fingers up your body, coming to rest on your bra, just between you breasts.  
"Still don't wanna remove this?" he asked, with one of those pairs of puppy eyes that make you melt on the spot. You knew you'd never be able to deny those eyes anything.  
"I'm going to close my eyes," you started, slowly, holding his gaze, "put my hands up like this," you continued, brushing his sides and alining your arms along the wall, "and count to three." He licked his lips and swallowed. " What happens then, well..." you said, already closing your eyes.  
His hands quickly undid your straps, and you felt your bra pulled along your arms before you even got to two. You heard a faint thump, figuring he threw it away, not letting you change your mind.  
You lost track of his hands for a moment, and in the exact moment when you said three and opened your eyes he pushed into you. Your breath caught in your throat, and you were overwhelmed with pleasure. And a sting of pain. He was big.  
"So I take it yoiu haven't done this in a while?" he asked you, remaining completely still.  
You blushed, and averted your gaze.  
"Not really. Normally, I don't do this at all..."  
"Good." You looked up at him in surprise. "I want you to remember this for a while." He slowly pulled out of you. "And not just because you can't walk."  
You wanted to tell him not to make promises he couldn't keep, but then he fucked into you, and your mind went numb.  
His thrust was quick and hard, but you could see he was holding back, and you were really grateful. He was such a gentleman, you didn't know if he was even real.  
Your feet rested on his ass, pulling him closer with every thrust. A hand was still fisted in his hair on the nape of his neck; you loved how short and sweet it was. The other hand was on his back, just feeling his muscles work.  
His thrusts gradually became faster and harder, even. You were in total bliss, kissing him like you were possessed, or staring into his eyes that were even more beautiful without their colour, taken over completely by the black haze of lust that were clouding your own. He sometimes chose to kiss your jaw and ear, murmuring sweet and sexy nonsense into your ears.   
Then there was a groan, definitely from him, that sounded like he was in pain.  
Ah, of course. He was still holding back. You were nearing your climax, every thrust got you closer, and you weren't sure how long you'd last.No need to wait for you.  
"Harder," you demanded in a harsh tone. You could see he was relieved, but still, he doubted you.  
"Are you sure?"  
You simply nodded, not willing to give up the streak of dominance you found within yourself.  
"Don't you dare hold back," you said, imitating his voice from earlier.  
A slight smile told you that he knew what you were referring to, but he was so busy rying to fuck you into the wall that he didn't give it any other thought. His hands, formerly on your waist and neck, now retreaed to your lower back to hold - and move - you closer to him, the other hit the wall next to your head with a loud thump.He ducked his head and started playing with your breasts, one at a time, completely lavishing you.  
Breathing became a really difficult task.You could hardly recover from the attention he now was paying your bare breasts - thank him for that! - but the feeling of his cock driving into you at such speed totally left you unable to concentrate on anything else. It all seemed so trivial, even breathing.  
You felt your climax approaching pretty quickly, and you tried to warn him, but he looked up a you.  
"You really are the sexiest woman I've ever seen," he said in such a husky voice that you believed him, and your orgasm hit you with unbelievable strength.  
You shut your eyes so strongly it almost hurt.You opened your mouth to shout, but ended up unable to do so, lips forming silent screams  
He watched you for a while, but after a few seconds he too reached his peak. He thrust deep into you and exploded like an atomic bomb: it felt so tight, like he was trying to blow you up from the inside. It was magnificient, and you came again instantly. His hand buried into your back, and you felt yourself bleeding, so you took his lower lip in your mouth and bit it. Fair is fair; if he wanted to leave his marks, then so would you.  
His response was sucking a love bite in a rather conspicuous spot on your neck while you were coming down from your high. His lips felt so good on your neck, his hand so perfect on your back, his body so right pressed against you, you never wanted to move.  
You snuggled your face into his shoulder, giving him a big squeezing hug.  
He walked to the bedroom, you clinging to him like your life depended on it. After all, this night was going to end, and you were never going to see him again. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and lay back, you on top of him, and him still inside you.  
His smile was lazy, sleepy, and sexy as hell. You kissed him, and it was slow and lovely, jus the way you liked it. So did he, as it turned out.  
You started to move your hips when you felt him harden inside you. In a short while he was thrusting up into you as well, only breaking the sweet kisses to gaze up into your eyes. Your hair fell down around him and on him. It was like a dream, and you could only describe it as lovemaking, even though the two of you hardly knew each other.  
When you were nearing your ends, he caught a stray strand of your hair and pushed behind your ear.  
"You're very, very beautiful," he stated in that amazing accent. A few minutes later you reached your peaks together.  
You rolled off of him, drinking in his scent and the look of his body like a dying man. You needed to remember this.  
"You don't mind if I stay the night, do you?" you asked, looking up at him.  
He purred a little while turning to you, then murmured something into your mouth that was lost on your lips.  
You pulled away with a smile.  
"I didn't get that, Mr. Fassbender."  
He chuckled.  
"I don't think I can tell you what to do. Though I'd be quite happy if you stayed."  
You ran your hand through his hair absent-mindedly. You were so in love with it.  
You frowned.  
"What happened to your hat?"  
He kissed you and cuddled up to you. Or more likely, cuddled you up him.  
"Tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all, this is my first ever fanfiction, so excuse me for being a bad writer. I'm thinking of making this a series, perhaps? Comments are always welcome!


End file.
